


Will It All Away

by Star_dancer54



Series: Dear god old stuff. Like, seriously old. [50]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, some cussing.
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2006-10-07
Updated: 2006-10-07
Packaged: 2019-02-15 00:41:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 293
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13019625
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Star_dancer54/pseuds/Star_dancer54
Summary: He hated him.





	Will It All Away

**Author's Note:**

> Takes place right after Sam leaves for Stanford. Title from Evanescence (can't remember the song off the top of my head)

He hated him. He hated him with all that he was and didn’t give a damn about anything but that hate. He slammed his fist into the wall, not caring that he nearly broke bones as well as the skin of his knuckles. He wanted to tear him to pieces, to bruise him, make him bleed and scream and _cry_ and…

And he was lying to himself.

He slumped against the wall while closing his eyes and tried to shove all the whirling _emotions_ that he hated into a nice little locked box. If they were locked away, they couldn’t bother him and nothing could hurt him. Hurt-

He growled and swiped his bleeding hand through his hair. _Damn him...damn him to hell-_ He pushed the thoughts away while raking both hands this time through his hair and leaving more sticky blood to spike his hair wildly.

He didn’t care.

As soon as the anger, rage, and _hatred_ faded from his system, hurt welled into and up from his stomach. It formed a choking ball in his throat and all he wanted to do in that split second was curl up into a miserable ball and shake and just try to _breathe_ for a moment, just long enough to get over it.

But he couldn’t...not right now...not with a job to do. He breathed deeply, shook himself like a dog shedding water, and felt that cool slide into another mind. This mind was chill, and purposeful, without anything but focus on the hunt, and exactly what he needed.

He took another deep breath, then picked up his duffel and stalked towards the door of the motel. He didn’t need to think of Sammy _Sam, damnit – my name is Sam_ anymore.


End file.
